


To the winner go the spoils

by suave_silver



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Not Beta Read, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 19:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20783828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suave_silver/pseuds/suave_silver
Summary: Aaravos held no delusions about the way Runaan felt for his mate. That it could not be allowed to continue went without saying.





	To the winner go the spoils

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: After S3 of TDP I had to come back and change some things. I'm not even sorry >:3

Listening half-heartedly to the group of elves around him, praising the forget Ethari for his growing skill with the blade, Aaravos was the picture of patience. Instead of joining the other warriors in their approval, offering his own like he should as an elder and instructor, his focus strayed towards the edge of the range where two others had broken off from the dueling.

Standing before Lotor, twirling his daggers and slicing them through the air with quick, sure strikes, was Runaan. He was proudly displaying a technique he had developed for his own fighting style, intended to unbalance an opponent and leave a large opening in their defense. Lotor was watching him with rapt attention, his eyes following every move.

Repeating the tactic several times, each slice of his blades whistling as they swiftly cut the air and each swing of his arms wide and sure, Runaan dominated the area before him. When finished, chest heaving, he gestured for Lotor to stand beside him. Watching avidly as Lotor withdrew his own daggers, standing parallel to him, Aaravos turned fully away from Rayla. Lotor was mirroring his stance, holding his weapons aloft as Runaan did. Standing close to one another with focused expressions and raised blades, they cut a striking scene.

Then, without words, they began. 

Each strike was fast and fluent as they moved in sync with one another, their white hair streaming behind them and the silver of their armour glinting in the afternoon sun. It reflected off their blades beneath the dappled light of the trees, flashing brilliantly. Confidently, they wielded their swords side by side, as only battle brothers could.

Aaravos found himself wandering from the elders and rouges encircling Rayla, heading towards the practicing pair. They would not miss his presence in the encompassing ring and he was not interested in watching them reward her growing adolescence by bestowing the purple marks of their tribe on her skin. Watching the pair execute the offense successively, flawlessly, he drew closer until he was only a few paces away when they finally stopped.

Runaan had a broad smile on his lips and his eyes were soft and crinkling in the corners as he slid his daggers back into their scabbards. His chest rose and fell heavily with a few deep breaths as he began composing himself.

Then he turned, brazenly placing a hand on the other Moonshadow elf’s shoulder with that soft smile on his lips.

The world around his vision grew dark as Aaravos stared at the pale hand clasped on Lotor's shoulder. 

Distantly, like shouting through a waterfall and the sound of blood drumming in his ears, Runaan spoke. His voice was raspy and echoed with delight, but was too low for Aaravos to catch his words. As he opened his mouth to say something else, he caught sight of the Startouch elf’s approach. Slowly, his smile faded entirely, becoming tight-lipped as he let his hand drop from the other. Subtly leaning back from Lotor, Runaan followed his steps with narrowed eyes but did not move away. 

Lotor was breathing deeply after their sword practice, but otherwise remained silent. As he turned his head to follow the others gaze, noting the sudeen change of mood, understanding fell across his face as he saw Aaravos approach. As he reached the pair, he stepped close to Lotor, sliding an arm around his shoulders and easily avoided the daggers strapped to his back, whilst not allowing his long sleeve to get caught in the straps.

That his hand rested over where Runaan’s had been didn’t strike as coincidental to any of them. 

Aaravos knew that this was an irrational spark of jealousy and he also knew that it was absurd, but it didn’t stop the feeling from coiling in his gut. He told himself as he stepped besides Lotor - to break the contact between him and Runaan - that he was doing it for the other elf’s protection, _not_ because he couldn't bear to see the sudden glow in the others eyes as he beheld and touched what was **_his_**.

“That was an impressive display of technique, Runaan,” he said smoothly, barely disguising the pride and possession in his tone, like a river which drowned with such savage speed.

Meeting the others eyes with a tight smile, he knew he was fooling no one. The air between them had the sudden atmosphere of two dragons fighting for the same horde, becoming charged with the want to _ fight _ and revel in their victory. Gold eyes slid away from blue, looking across the clearing to where Ethari and the others stood, cheering merrily. His voice was barely clipped when he said, “I’m sure your own protege would benefit from knowing it. He is a fast learner, after all. Well suited to you.” 

The space between them seemed to crackle and hum, the double meaning of his words not lost. He slid his hand from Lotor’s shoulders to the elbow against his side, looping his fingers under it and hooking their arms together. Unconsciously, he dug into the leather bracer he found there.

He watched the way Runaan followed the possessive touch and stared at their interwoven arms intensely, bristling at the sight of it. A sudden surge of heat and anger made him tighten his hold, clutching to Lotor tightly. He wanted to snarl like a wolf whose den has been invaded, but stilled when fingers reached out, brushing against his ribs through his robes.

The younger elf gave him a knowing look, encouraging patience, before he turned back to Runaan. 

“Thank you for teaching me the maneuver, Runaan,” Lotor said honestly, finally speaking. “I am sure it will serve me well in the future.” 

He inclined his head towards the other, almost diplomatically, as if he were not about to be pulled apart by two warring alphas. He offered Runaan an open smile, but made no move to leave the Startouch elf’s side. Instead he leaned against him, just a little, but enough to make his choice clear.

“Aavaros is right though, Ethari would do well to learn it too,” he said softly.

Runaan seemed to jolt at that, his attention returning to the younger assassin's face. His gaze was a mixture of want and hope before recognition gleamed in the blue depths of his eyes and the flames there burnt out; the thrumming energy between them all being released as the fires died. It did nothing to soothe the restless pulse inside Aaravos, but Lotor’s warmth against him and the loyalty in his voice was a cooling balm. 

The fact that the sadness in Runaan’s very being was palpable as well was a start and watching his heart break before him was like a slow, appeasing treat; for even though Lotor was kind in giving him a clean cut, there was nothing more savage than a knife wound to the heart.

An excited shout across the clearing seemed to break the foggy spell and drew the devastated elf back into the moment. He stood a little taller, and after some time in a deflated voice he said, “Of course,” giving a tiny, sad smile to his brother-in-arms. After that, it was as if a veil had descended over Runaan. He strode past them both without another word or glance, the entire need to fight leaving him. As he walked towards the other elves of his clan, defeat and acceptance laid heavily on his shoulders.

Aaravos watched his retreating form with a critical eye, before turning back to Lotor. The young assassin was already watching him however, his lips downturned with an almost hurt look on his face. “Do you not trust me Aaravos?”

The Startouch elf used their locked arms to gently tug Lotor closer. When fully facing him, Aaravos pulled him flush against himself. The lingering scent of the keen alpha caught on his inhale and he grappled within himself to not make this worse, to mark what was his where the other had stood and touched. Instead, he brushed an errant strand of hair from his mates face, securing it behind a sharply curved horn. Sliding his hand to the back of Lotor’s neck, he urged his face up gently.

The burning jealousy had diminished in the presence of Lotor’s wounded look and his posturing had stilled, the constricting serpent around his chest finally loosening its tight grip. “Yes,” he said, drawing soothing circles on the skin at the back of his neck. “What I did not trust was for Runaan to keep his hands off you for much longer,” he admitted.

Instinctively, his fingers splayed at the voiced fear and he pulled Lotor forwards, his breath puffing against his lips and warming his cheeks. “Three makes for a crowded bed after all, and I am not willing to share you. I am your mate, not him,” he rumbled, the timber of his voice as dark as the magic lurking beneath his skin, itching to be free, to force everything to submit to his will.

Throughout his claim, he felt their bond lurch to life and then all at once there were lips touching his, distracting him, so soft and warm and dry - mollifying the covetousness within and stilling the angry writhing of the beast wrapped around his heart. Accepting the distraction, his lips parted under the kiss and he sighed, closing his eyes and letting his body mould against Lotor’s. 

Inhaling the scent of clean sweat and pine, he began to calm. He trailed his hands against Lotor’s cheeks, silent and apologetic and gently stroked his fingers along his mates jaw, encouraging his mouth to open wider and accept him. He did so without hesitation, opening his throat and body to Aaravos'. 

Suddenly he walked the assassin backwards, pushing him against the unwieldy bark of a nearby tree after a few quick strides to press his robed body against his lover's armoured one. The calm dissapated and became an urgent need. Now breathless, he felt the hot pulse of his blood and the rapid thunder of his heartbeat; the need to cement their connection and prove their bond now, despite those in the clearing nearby who may see. 

Growling, he corrected his thoughts._ 'Especially in front of those who may see_.'

As if knowing what he was thinking, Lotor broke their kiss, gasping for breath and opening his eyes to pin him in place. 

“Yes, you are my mate," he breathed out, picking up from earlier. "Just as Runaan is my kin.” Pushing back from the tree to wrap himself around Aaravos, he continued. “He is my friend and brother under the skin, in the field of battle and under the light of the Moon. But he has no place in our bed, Aaravos. What he feels now will pass. He will imprint on another and grow to love them.” 

The pale hands encircling him slid from his shoulders, down the glittering black robe he wore to rest on his hips. Aarvos could feel himself trembling with reaction as the hands trailed to his centre, stroking the inside of his thighs through his breeches. “I am your mate, Aaravos,” Lotor repeated, purring at his statement, knowing exactly what he needed to hear. “As witnessed by the Stars in the sky and the God Kings of old, for now and always. Whatever Runaan feels for me, will not pull me away from you. I will have no other.”

Aaravos could feel the heat building between them like the rush before battle; the same outer stillness before everything collided together. The crush of Lotor’s mouth was bruising against his, the armoured knuckles heedlessly breaking open the belts of his robes in their hunger to find his skin. His body bucked in response, the flame of the Moonshadow elf’s passion lighting a fire in his own blood, more intoxicating than any wine or aphrodisiac.

The elf kissed him hard, then harder still and he was left reeling, opening his mouth wider, sucking Lotor’s tongue hungrily into his mouth before snarling, pushing the assassin against the tree again and digging his fists into either spot besides his head. His growl became pleased when he felt his mates long fingers fumbling with the knots and ties of his leggings, before yanking them down and seizing fistfuls of his undershirt to haul him closer.

His cock pressing against Lotor's hollow stomach caused his excitement to rocket, transferring to the omega immediatly. A hand wormed its way between them and then his legs, making him moan and arch as Lotor’s fingers wrapped around his length, stroking it deftly and sweetly at once. Leaning up through his arms, Lotor worried at his throat with sharp teeth and breathy moans. 

Aaravos began growling like a great beast atop its prey, pinning the elf harder against the core of the tree trunk with his groin and thrusting into the firm hold around his cock. The low mumble of his voice visibly thrilled throughout Lotor’s body as a tremble and he groaned, suddenly desperate for his mate. Yanking and tearing his remaining robes out of the way of his desire, the cloth rendered utterly useless in his hands, he thrust erratically against him.

The assassin's teeth closing around his throat in retaliation made him jolt and tremble and he strove hard to hang onto his waning control. “For all the advantage of your teasing Lotor, I will ruin you," he gasps out. Feeling the other hold his shaft more firmly, stroking it quickly between the funnel of his fingers and palm, he began groaning as it began to leak the over the long digits.

Without warning, Aaravos snatched the teasing hands away, dragging them above Lotor’s head and transferring his hold to one hand. With a quiet spell, he tied the assassin's wrists in place with a small, glowing charm that morphed once the light faded, resembling a thick cord of rope. 

Upon realising what was happening, Lotor began whining and struggling against the cold bite of the charm, his skin flushing pink as he attempted to wriggle and break out of the secure hold. The strange pleasure of it felt like the distant sting of hundreds of tiny bees crawling along his arms and he shook under its intensity. 

Aaravos hummed, enjoying the sight of him fighting the spell before he hushed Lotor, nuzzling against the side of his cheek and sharp jaw as he took away the omegas control. He felt their horns collide as the younger elf tilted his head into the touch, seeking whatever contact he could have without the use of his hands. The sound echoed like the clash of deer's antlers in rut.

Unwillingly, Lotor opened his eyes. As he feared, the sight of the Startouch elf bared before him, just out of reach, with his arousal jutting eagerly from his dressed form made him arch and yearn with an even greater intensity. With his hands unexpectedly immobilized, he could not help but rub his face against the nape of his mates jaw, revelling in the only friction he could get.

With Lotor rubbing his face along the raised, magical marks of his skin, at last, Aaravos knew why a cat purred when it was stroked.

Aaravos’ grin was sharp as he watched his mate squirm, gold eyes pooling black and leaving only a thin circle of liquid honey undarkened by his desire. Fingers that had never misfired a spell reached out to tug at the clasps that held Lotor’s armour in place, then heedlessly ripped the fabric of his trousers out of his way, just as he had done earlier. 

Lithe muscles and flushed, tattooed skin were revealed to him and he hungered to taste all of it, jerking the hard fabric down the assassins thighs, all the way to his knees.

Such vulnerability, such strength, all on show for him... He found himself crowding closer, breathing against the others neck, but just out of reach of the lips searching and reaching out for his own. “Say it again,” Aaravos whispered, suddenly pushing his body into Lotors, thrusting his aching cock forward before withdrawing twice as fast. 

Lotor whimpered, his hands twisting in their restraints, hips bucking from the tree and into the air, moaning at the absence of his touch. The material of his robes brushed against his knees and against his pert nipples, but not where he wanted them, causing him to rock his hips towards the alpha in his desperation. 

“Say you are mine,” Aaravos breathed into his pointed ear before biting the tip and lobe, mercilessly flicking the wet warmth of his tongue around the sensitive edge. He tore and pulled away the remaining clothing covering Lotor’s lower half, leaving him in nothing but his black boots and breastplate, trembling at the sudden exposure.

He captured Lotor’s waist with both hands, then began pulling them _ up_, guiding his long legs to wrap around his waist. The younger elf hung from his wrists at the sudden imbalance before Aaravos bore all his weight, sliding him atop his aching hardness. The heels of Lotor's boots dug into his lower back through his clothes and Aaravos found himself smiling from ear to ear.

“Say you are mine... and I will give what you want.” 

Lotor whined again, his voice straining as he desperately rocked over Aaravos’ cock, the head slipping between his cheeks and smearing his precum. “I... I am your mate,” he moaned quietly, shaking all over. He arched away from the tree and into himself, into the solid capable arms holding him aloft by his hips and thighs. Rubbing the tip of his cock against the other man's chest and abdominals as much as he could, he began whimpering even louder.

The delicious friction sent a wave of pleasure through Aaravos, making him growl deeply at the needy noises and the slick evidence of Lotor's excitement covering his torso. “I can’t hear you,” he said huskily, his own hips thrusting into the gap of his mats pale thighs and sliding along the crease of his opening, teasingly. The tightening of the others legs around him said more than his voice ever could.  
  
“Ahh! I... ! I’m yours!” The assassin said, bucking against him as much as possible. "Please... Aaravos!"

Keeping one, clawed hand on his hip to hold him in place and to bear his precious burden steady, Aaravos trailed the other beneath a lean thigh, stroking his way to his mates rear.

Lotor barely stifled a yelp as he thrust a finger into his opening, biting his lips and curling his fingers and toes against the sudden, shallow breach. His thighs clenched, unyieldingly tight around him as Lotor swallowed visibly. His began pushing in deeper and felt a primal delight when Lotor could not say any other response than the breathless gasping of his name.

He worked to reduce the Moonshadow elf to a moaning, incoherent mess with the skilful passion of his touch. Wishing to woo, win and overthrow him; to be the tyrant and petitioner all in one. 

As one finger became two, he began moving them deftly within the other and began nuzzling gently at his mouth, kissing closed eyelids. He saw the moment Lotor thought coherently for the first time - the dull twinge of pain bringing him to a halt. There was nothing about him that Aaravos did not know.

“Trust me,” he urged tenderly.

After a moment, Lotor’s burning blue eyes opened, meeting his sharply. “Do you see a lack of trust?” he demanded breathlessly, playing on their earlier conversation.

Aaravos brushed his lips against Lotor’s, the two fingers inside him twisting deeper and caressing the hidden place within where such intense pleasure dwelt. As his fingers brushed across the warm bundle of nerves, he listened to the sweet music he conjured from his mates throat. Even though Lotor bit his lip to cut off the sound, a low moan still escaped. 

“Never from you,” he finally answered, forcing his fingers deeper inside, licking the curved tip of a pointed ear. He knew the heat of his tongue and the whisper of his warm breath was an unbearable tease on the already too-sensitive skin of his lover. When Aaravos kissed him on the mouth with the full surge of their bond and the build up of their passion, he was not surprised to feel Lotor sag in his arms, as if his very bones were melting.

“Aaravos, please...” Even as he gasped his name, he found he didn’t care if he was pleading for him to stop or to continue. 

He burrowed three fingers all the way inside, caressing and stretching, finding all of Lotor’s deepest points of pleasure. He distantly acknowledged that as soon as his cock entered Lotor, he would be utterly undone, for his body was traitorous and thrumming in anticipation, all of its focus upon his mates reaction to his touch. 

As he opened his mouth to cry out, Aaravos kissed him deeply, swallowing the eager moan, invading his mouth to thoroughly claim it as his own. As the body pinned by his spell weakened and opened up to him in a helpless response to his kiss and fingers, he removed them. 

Grabbing his throbbing cock, he stroked it once, quickly spreading the slick of his pre cum down its length. Then, aligning himself, drove deeply inside his mate. 

Lotor barely muffled a scream, his back bowing out as his shaft slid into him, filling him completely and opening him up to all of his passion. Feeling his mates body surrendering itself to him, giving out its final resistance around him, he thrust forward, bottoming out inside the other, giving him no to me to adjust. 

Watching avidly as Lotor wailed his ecstasy, pulling against the rope charm holding him in place, fucking himself on his length - impaling the innermost points of his desire with the head of his cock - Aaravos groaned at the sight.

Never had he known another pleasure greater than sheathing himself within the velvety tightness of his mates beautiful body. The thought trembled through him like a lit flame and he strove to overcome the pulsing of his own foggy mind, to please his mate and sate his needs.

At the first unbearable wave of pleasure, like a thunderstorm rolling over the mountainside, he allowed his spells power to wain, letting his lover have what he wanted; instantly feeling the spell loosening it's hold over him, Lotor burst free from the magical restraint, covering them both in a shower of blue dust. Wrapping his arms beneath his own and crushing him against his heaving chest, panting raggedly into Aaravos' neck, Lotor bit through the thin collar obstructing him and tore thin lines into the fabric of his cloak.

Clenching hands pulled him ever closer and immediately, he became animalistic in his lust. Aaravos drove deeply into him then, unerring in his aim, finding the spot inside his mate that released his wild, feral nature. 

Lotor began gasping when it did not stop and he pushed into him again and again and _ again_. Waves of pleasure coursed through their bodies with each slap of their thighs and push of their groins, like a tide endlessly breaking against the shore. Lotor trembled ecstatically at the assault upon his screaming senses, scrambling against him and the tree, locking his knees tighter around his lower back.

Watching Lotor struggling to claw back his self-control, snatching shaky breaths from the heated air infront of him, caused Aaravos to smile. Kissing the assassin again, twisting his hips with his next thrust so that the elf’s sweet spot received a new thrill of sensation, he watched their control shatter entirely. Thrusting again, another slam of his hips battering the elf’s pleasure point from a different angle, ensured it would not return.

Lotor moaned helplessly and arched his back, his white hair falling like a waterfall around him with the sunlight catching in it beautifully against the worn bark of the tree. 

Aaravos thought of how pale and slender the elf looked beside his own dark, glittering skin, yet the body impaled on his own could not have been more masculine despite the slenderness of his waist, the impossibly long legs and the eager jutting of his arousal, now strained and weeping as it clamoured to be touched.

Ignoring it, his eyes trailed to Lotor’s chest. His shoulders were certainly broad enough to please the eye, as well hold a dagger and draw a broadsword. Smirking, Aaravos bent his head and licked approvingly at one pert, pink nipple. Thrusting deep within him again, Lotor moaned, pushing his chest against his hot mouth and mumbling incoherently about him being a torturer cruller than those in the human settlements. 

Smile broadening, he licked at the other nipple until that was as hard and aching as its fellow. Increasing his thrusts, the Moonshadow elf moaned even louder, a warm flush suffusing his whole body, making him look absurdly young. Thoroughly enjoying the blush he'd caused, he kissed Lotor tenderly, nipping at his ear once more, whispering sweet words to him of how he was as supple as a birch and twice as strong, how well he bore his cock and would hold his knot. 

Looking entirely woebegone, moaning at each thrust and praise, Aaravos kissed him over and over everywhere he could, revelling as his mate kissed him back sharply, furrowing his fingers into his loose silver hair. His mates body was pulsing to his rhythm, hips working faster now to meet each hard thrust as he was fucked against the tree.

Aaravos increased his pace, thrusting faster now, even harder, the base of his cock swelling as he neared the culmination of their joining. Lotor raised no objection, moaning picking up in pitch, clawing at his cloak like a wild animal determined to feel Aaravos tie them together. 

In that moment, Aaravos had no thought of his own pleasure; for all of his love, affection and _ need _ for the younger elf, he was determined that Lotor would reach his climax first - give him the pleasure of seeing him loose control, the lucidity leave his eyes as he was broken down to nothing other than the primal wants of an omega being claimed by an alpha. 

He thrust fast and deep until Lotor could barely snatch the air between one breathless moan and the next. He was aflame with pleasure now, a burning brightness in his arms, all his pale skin heated with desire and body flexing in time to the warrior-mage’s thrusts. Beating a rapid percussion against the tree trunk, the younger elf threw back his head and finally let go, gasping _ ‘yesyesyes’ _ at last. 

Then Aaravos was almost undone, his rhythm as ragged as it was rapid, driving hard and deep then shallow and swift, his body shaking as they kissed breathlessly. Tongues were barely able to caress before more air was snatched into starving lungs. “Let go, Lotor,” Aaravos hissed, thrusting into the heart of his pleasure point. 

And then he did, arching into his arms as his cock burst with cum against his chest, pheromones swirling rhampantly as Lotor spilled all over the markings on his torso, slicking the skin between them. Aaravos barely got his hand between the elf’s skull and the tree in time as he threw his head back, his sharp horns nearly embedding themselves into the wood behind him. 

Aaravos continued supporting him with his hips alone, even as his body shook with its own need for release, the bulge at the base of his cock a tight ball of heat and _need_. Then as climax bent Lotor like a drawn bow, forcing him to ride the waves of his afterglow, Aaravos caved, dragging him away from the tree and bearing him down to the mossy floor with a tumble of limbs.

Barely able to string two thoughts together, all he could think about was the relentless heat crashing through him. Clasping a hand across his mates mouth to quiet his screaming, he pulled his cock from Lotor, watching the arching and convulsing of his body like a leaf in a storm. 

Raising his hips up in a decedent display of_ want, _Aaravos had no intentions of refuse his offer. He simply wanted a different end.

Slipping his hands over leather and metal alike, he began descending along his mates armour to his buttocks, holding him tightly against his body. Aaravos urged him to move then, helping Lotor all the while tightly gripping his waist. Sluggishly, Lotor rolled so as to lie on his front, before Aaravos pulled him up by his ass.

Bending down, he broke the skin at the base of Lotor’s damp neck with a brutal bite, pulling Lotor’s thighs open wide as he did so. 

Pressing back in roughly, the welcoming tightness engulfing him once more and stretching around the swelling base of his cock, Lotor moaned loudly, clutching at whatever he could find on the forest floor. He was exhausted but receptive as he rocked back against him, snapping twigs between his clenched fingers as he jolted against the cock slamming into him.

Aaravos smiled upon seeing the rosy glow upon his mates high cheekbones as he turned his head, pushing his hot cheek into the ground. Drowsily, Lotor looked over his shoulder to meet his fiery gaze. “Aaravos…” he croaked. Kissing the bruising bite on Lotor's neck tenderly, he began to thrust roughly once more.

Fucking the younger elf earnestly now, each thrust making him keen his pleasure, he could watch he as completely overwhelmed Lotor. Tears began springing up in the corner of his eyes, the over stimulation causing his violent trembling, but he continued digging into the firm waist and dragging his hips back into his own. 

Practically crying each time Aaravos’s building knot bore into him, Lotor dropped forward, letting his face and shoulders bear the weight of them both. Blindly, he reached behind himself. Whether in encouragement or not, Aaravos found himself snarling, taking hold of the searching hands by the wrists, pinning them tightly against the small of his back in order to restrain him once more.

Lotor yelled, pushing his hips back to meet Aaravos’ now ragged thrusts, tightening his muscles and squeezeing himself around his twitching cock with ecstatic precision. He could not hold on any longer, one more thrust and -

“Lotor,” he hissed, his voice crackling with energy like the build up of lightning. He was so close - 

Biting sharply into Lotor’s neck and drawing blood, his knot finally swelled, impossibly large and catching inside him. His release broke forth like a dam, flooding his mate with seed whilst locking them in place together. 

His orgasm was long, the white mist descending over his eyes, everything feeling absolutely _ complete _for a long moment. When sensation eventually returned, the aching of his knees and the trembling of his mate drew him back to himself and it grew impossible to ignore. Gently, easing his hips backwards, he realised they were still tied together. 

Grunting, he released Lotor’s wrists and distantly watched colour return to them. Then, pulling on their locked hips, he began rolling them so that they could lay on their sides. Wrapping an arm around his waist, holding his mate close so he could tuck his head over an armoured shoulder, Aaravos enjoyed the sheer contentment radiating through their connection and thriving bond.

Kissing the crown of Lotor's head through his hair and the side of his neck repeatedly, he whispered words of love and comfort as ropes of his seed continued to fill his mate, eventually overflowing and oozing down his thighs in white streams, pooling in the gap between.

Fluttering his lashes and blinking twice, Lotor's gaze began to focus once more. Heart still beating rapidly, slowly coming back to himself, the younger elf's eyes widened before darting back to Aaravos. 

"What if the others heard us?" Lotor asked, voice raspy as he tilted his head in the direction of the clearing beyond the trees.

"Then they heard us," he rumbled, far too pleased with the reproaching look Lotor shot him. 

"None of them will be able to doubt our bond. They will all know that you belong to me, and I to you," he continued, stroking his thumb over the yourger elf's lips. 

For indeed, no other would dare to claim the lips he brushed now, dare to touch what was his, not even the brave Runaan. Their renewed bond glowed brightly through the markings wrapped around their skin and in the the strong musk of sex clinging to their skin and clothes.

Slowly withdrawing from his mate, his member glistening with the vivacious fluid of his passion and his knot a small gland once again, he sighed, feeling entirely reluctant to leave the comfort of his lover. Pulling Lotor back by the straps of his armour, flush against his chest and thighs, pacified the irrational urge to _ stay inside. _

Lotor twisting in his hold to face him pacified him even more.Tangling their legs together, tugging him close as if to surround him and tucking his face beneath his chin - mindful of his horns - brought complete peace to his wandering thoughts. Runaan was all-but forgotten during their tender embrace. Bringing Lotor’s face up, he kissed him sweetly. Feeling Lotor caress the base of his horns whilst brushing his sweat dampened hair back from his face, their tongues entwining again, he relaxed entirely. 

Then, Lotor stroked a finger over his torn cloak and stained, ruined robes, a look of absolute mischief stealing over his face. “As fun as you staking your claim in the middle of the woods was, how are we supposed to return if I have no pants and you have no shirt?”

Aaravos gave him a long look of exasperation, but could not deny the thrill of warmth in his gut at the idea of parading his lover into town, bearing his bites and marks and limping for all to see. Chuckling deeply, golden eyes twinkling, he told Lotor so.

"I suppose I will just have to carry you back like the limp-legged, freshly mated omega you are."

The smile vanished from Lotor's face instantly.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a small fic for kinktober, but every time I came back it got longer and longer and more plot got thrown in. By the end, it had virtually no kink in it at all other than A/B/O so I just let it become pure raunchiness. I'm posting it seperate and early as well, kinda like a long teaser? No apologies for the pairing, but I should explain that Lotor is a Moonshadow Elf in this fic and not an Altean/Galra hybrid. And I just found out that Aaravos is a Startouch elf. Not touched. Touch. That messed with my head so much, so I'm sorry if it sounds weird. It sounded weird to me. Anyway! Criticism is always welcome. Please point out any mistakes you see. I'm so tired.


End file.
